


Happily Ever Hearafter

by Mavynn



Category: Original Work
Genre: Afterlife, Horror, Original Fiction, Other, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 06:28:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mavynn/pseuds/Mavynn
Summary: Most people I have ever known are terrified of dying. It is normal. The unknown. I am not here to set your mind at ease about dying. Most of you SHOULD be terrified.Not that being dead is so terrible. Even that would be something. It is just so… boring.Trigger Warning: This story deals with death and the afterlife. There are also suggestions of child abuse, cheating and murder. None of these will be described in great detail but you have been warned.





	1. Chapter 1

Most people I have ever known are terrified of dying. It is normal. The unknown. I am not here to set your mind at ease about dying. Most of you SHOULD be terrified.

Not that being dead is so terrible. Even that would be something. It is just so… boring.

Not at first. At first it is GREAT! Anything and everything you can remember you can just recreate. Just… have it. Have it all.

ANYTHING you can imagine. I was an avid reader and here I could recreate every single story I had ever read. And for several decades that was enough.

I ran through primordial forests with the characters of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I hunted Dracula with Van Helsing. I went down oh so many rabbit holes with Alice.

And then there was the normal stuff. Things like recreating my childhood so I could gain some perspective. I could revisit all of my family and friends who have died. Are they real or just figments of my imagination? I honestly have no answer for that. They seem real enough, they know things only I would know about them, which at first seemed like a great way to test their… realness I suppose.

But I would suppose all of you have figured out the flaw in this plan. If I already knew what they know it doesn’t really prove their existence.

All of this reliving was supposed to cause introspection. Closure. Get me all ready and jazzed up for my next incarnation.

Since I was not interested in self reflection I knew I was going to be here for a long, long time.

The worst part about being dead is as long as you stay in… Heaven? Purgatory? Wherever it is you want to believe I am doesn’t matter. Those terms don’t matter. I call it the Hereafter because from here after my life was going to be this unending blissfulness. Anyway, the worst part, you don’t learn anything new. You just rehash everything you already know. Over and over again.

“What is so bad about that?” You may be thinking. And the answer is, at first nothing. Not at least if you have some quirk of personality that changes the outcome of whatever scenario you are currently running through.

Most of us, me included, are pretty boring. We can’t really grasp the idea of being total failures or absolute winners.

Take me. I was a boring person. I had a pretty good life. Housewife, husband, two kids, a dog. A decent home. Everything we are taught to want. The things that are supposed to make us happy. And they do. While we are alive. But none of that happiness leaves room for highs and lows.

You can’t learn to be a winner or loser once you are dead. You end up with a pretty OK afterlife. The soul crushing sameness of the afterlife.

You know who REALLY has a great time here? Those who were really successful then lost it all and turned in to some opium addict chasing the dragon.

They can change the outcome of any scenario they dream up by drawing on those memories of highs and lows.

I really feel bad for the kids who die. Not for the reason you think, but because they have so little experience to populate their world with.

But then they get reincarnated really fast. I guess it all washes out for them. Not as much crap to sort through and come to terms with. Stillborns or those who die REALLY young are going to be whisked off to the next life right away.

I guess the older kids have to get past why little Susie never liked them back, or losing the “big game” or whatever crap kids deal with. Some of them had really bad lives to work through. Lucky bastards.

I probably would have ended up drooling in to my imagined pudding while waiting to reborn if I had not accidentally stumbled on these kids playing with a Ouija board.

I was in a close place, where the dead can sort of see the living. Mostly it looks like figures in fog, but hey, better than nothing, right?

These kids looked different. I could see them clearly. The creepy little assholes had that Ouija board in a cemetery. They had broken into a tomb. And you living people think the disembodied are scary? That was some seriously dark shit these kids were doing.

And why a tomb? Or a cemetery at all? What do they think? That when we are dead we want to hang around looking at dead bodies all day? That would be worse than the afterlife actually is!

But I made a discovery that night. If I got close enough and really wanted to, or in the first time’s case just wanted ANYTHING different, I could slide right in to a dead body. I would just slip in to the place the last person had left.

Kind of like trying on a new hat. I really wish that wasn’t an absolutely accurate analogy.

My first visit didn’t turn out really well, as I am sure you can imagine. First the body had been prepared for burial, and there was this sort of plug stuck where the sun doesn’t shine. To keep fluids from leaking out? Maybe. I am sooo glad my body has long rotted.

You might be thinking that you could just go back to your own body and keep right on with your life. I mean who wouldn’t want that? But it won’t work. For the first few decades you will be too busy playing with your own afterlife.

And after I saw what they did to this body… let’s just say you’ll have to trust me, you DON’T want to go back in to it.

I doubt those little shits will want much to do with dead bodies after that night either. Not that I was trying to terrify them. I was not really sure exactly what had happened at first. One minute I was just me, Casper the Friendly Goddamned Ghost, the next I was inside this guy with a butt plug trying to figure out how the hell I could get his casket open.

I must have made one hell of a racket because those little turds took off like Old Scratch himself was on their tails.

Speaking of the devil, or God, don’t ask. Yes I have met both, no I don’t know if they were figments of my imagination or not. The only one I know is real is my case manager who is constantly riding my ass about “learning the lessons of my previous incarnation”. Case manager is just what I call him, and the only reason I knew he was real is I could not have ever conceived of such an officious little prick in all of my living days.

I will write more on him later. Maybe. He isn’t really important to anyone but me. And barely to me.

Anyway, that was only the first time I tried it. The next time was better. I took a stroll I ate real food, not just the memory of food.

Before I learned better, I tried to convince people who I really was. How they should live their lives not to get stuck in some idealized horrifying version of it later.

Right after I slip inside someone (and yes, enough of this internet has taught me that is a really loaded phrase) I can sort of read their memories. The longer they have been dead the more those memories are eroded. So I would call their family and friends and go on a tangent. Well, you are reading this, you know my feelings about the after life. But you opened this up, you knew _something_ was coming. I whacked those people over the head with my existential crisis out of the blue.

After the first two times where I accidentally traumatized people about a loved one losing their minds before dying I stuck to just figuring out this new world. I only have so long. The body is, after all, dead, three days for fish and guests of dead bodies, am I right?

I won’t go on about how great you all have it compared to my day, because we had it pretty good too, but this internet! It is how I learned about Casper the Friendly Ghost and butt plugs. I really don’t want to go in to how I learned about that last one. As it turns out after all this time dead I can still be shocked.

It is, of course, how I am reaching out to you at all. I mean what? Did you think my Hereafter had wifi? Nope. Gaslight for me. Home electricity existed in my day, but most people didn’t have it.

I learned about this place, from the guy whose body I am currently inhabiting. He had the page open. A few stories in and I had the idea I could tell you people about my life. Or ex-life, or whatever, and not terrorize you.

This bastard. He is going to spend his afterlife being buggered by demons of his own making.

When I went through his computer I found pictures… images. They are horrifying. I grew up in a time when children were used as cheap labor and even, in the most horrifying of places, cheap prostitution, and that was bad. This however, this is a whole new level.

I have seen scenes of torture so brutal they would give the demons in Dante’s Inferno a run for their money.

Again, I have never actually seen anything I could tell you was definitively a demon. Except the asshole I am inhabiting.

In the room next to me I can hear the whimpering of a small child. The first time I opened that door I encountered a scene that will fuel my dead nightmares for decades. There was a small child, a little girl, and teddy bears and cameras and… well, let’s just say the toys I saw were not the sort any child would want to play with.

I can’t go near her without causing her to scream and cower in fear. I have done the only thing I can. I have figured out how to call the police on his cellular phone and I am waiting.

I can hear the sirens outside. I am trying to decide whether to leave the bastards body and go home for a rest or stay here and maybe put on a little show. Maybe tussle with them a bit so they have to shoot me.

I don’t want to be in this sick pervert’s body any longer than I need to, but I struggle with the right thing to do. If they have to shoot me will it bring any more closure to his victims?

They are pounding on the door now. Time to go, one way or the other.

Maybe if I get bored in another body I will write more here. If I can remember how to get here.


	2. I'm Back - Carol's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, hello, Thomas dear.” I smiled at him sweetly. “Have you decided to see if shooting me would keep me dead this time?”

Hey there! I am back. At least temporarily. Well, full disclosure? I have been back twice since the last time I was on here, I just didn’t think anyone would want to know about how amazing I find fast food burgers. Seriously, what is IN that stuff? Cocaine? The second time I just went to the beach.

What was pretty exciting was my trip back home. My caseworker was waiting for me. His name is Ozab, but I call him Oz just to annoy him.

“You have strayed from your realm.” Were the words he greeted me with. “He” isn’t really an apt descriptor, but it will do.

“I did indeed, and it was AMAZING!” I wasn’t the least bit contrite.

“Your duty is to stay in your realm and prepare for the next life.” Now, keep in mind, this isn’t all being said in words, not the way humans think of them. The communication is different, but far more effective. There is no room for miscommunication.

Which is how I knew in this case “duty” was not a “rule”. That is an important distinction.

I just shrugged. “Nothing STOPPED me from going back.”

My indifference did not please him. “You are disrupting the natural flow of the human experience.”

“Why must EVERYTHING be so dramatic for you?” He was annoying me. I wanted to replay some of my old experiences with my new found knowledge.

“You are telling humans about the afterlife.” He ignored the fact that I wanted him to leave.

“And? You people did it first. You wrote a book. No, wait SEVERAL books!” I pointed out. “Besides. I SAVED someone. A little girl. That should count for something.”

The look he gave me told me he wasn’t really impressed. “The human who harmed her was already dead.”

OK, fair point actually. “She might never have been found. What if she starved in there?”

He ignored my, in my not so humble opinion, very valid point. “You are being difficult about moving in to your next life.” It was not a question.

“What’s your hurry? Are you so eager to be rid of me?” His look told me that I had nailed it in one.

After he left I played for a few months with all the new knowledge I had.

For those wondering, I put on a little show before leaving that last body. I mean, why not? I struggled. I rushed the cops. I bit one for good measure. They didn’t shoot me though so I just faked the very real heart attack he had before I arrived and went home.

But I got bored pretty quickly. I wanted something new. I wandered around until I found a recently vacated body and slipped in. It was a bit of a pain because I had to get this body down from the rope that was tethering it to a beam.

I know I must sound pretty callous about the people I inhabit, but they aren’t really people anymore. They are just empty meat suits.

And this one had decided to end it all by tying a rope around her neck and strangling from the rafters. I was too busy trying to figure out how to get down to rifle through her memories to figure out why. It is a good thing I can’t feel pain in these bodies.

I finally undid the knot and fell to the ground. I walked around to test that I hadn’t broken anything. Then I sat down to figure out who she was.

Carol, wife of Thomas. He was a real piece of work. He had been having an affair with a coworker and as soon as Carol found out he over dosed her on her sleeping pills and hauled her into the garage to hang her. She wasn’t quite unconscious when he did this. Just weak from the drugs and unable to fight back.

Well, that explained why there was no chair under her. How did he think he was going to make it look like a suicide if there was no way for her to have got up there?

So not just a murderer but an idiot as well.

Just as I finished going through Carol’s most recent memories a door that presumably led into the house burst open.

“She is in here officers. Oh the horror of it all!” Oh please, this bastard is as dramatic as Oz. “Why would she do this?”

“Please stay inside, sir.” A police officer stepped through the door called behind him.

I stood up and smiled as he came in. He looked very startled. I was glad Carol favored high necked shirts. I could hide the rope burns on her neck easily.

“Hello, officer.” I smiled brightly. “Is there a problem?”

He looked from me to the rope. “Ma’am… please remain calm, I assure you we are here to help.”

His partner stepped in and took one look at me backing up a bit. “Mr. Fellman, we were in time to help your wife.”

“You were… I’m sorry?” A very confused Thomas stepped in the door. He turned white as… well, white as a ghost, pun intended. “Carol! But how I thought…”

Oh this was going to be fun! “Thomas! Oh dear, you ruined the surprise.” I grasped at Carol’s memories quickly. “I was going to hang a tennis ball so I would know when to stop when I pulled the car in. But what are the police doing here?” I looked at them, pretending confusion.

“Then… you weren’t attempting to… harm yourself… Ma’am?” the first officer who had entered the garage asked.

“Harm myself? Oh my goodness!” I clutched my hand to my chest. Two (or three) could play the drama game. “Is that what you thought? Oh Thomas. You must have been having one of your nightmares again! I am so sorry, officers that you have been called out needlessly, but my husband suffers from… episodes.”

I smiled at Thomas who kept opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

After about an hour of questioning by the two officers to make certain I was not a danger to myself, and one of them helpfully showing me how to set up that tennis ball… good thing Carol was lousy at pulling in to her garage! They left.

Thomas was clearly not certain what to say to me. He followed me in to the kitchen. “Umm… Carol… did you take your medication?”

“Yes dear.” I smiled. I had the beginnings of a revenge plan. “Do you feel like you need a sleeping pill to help you die?”

“To help me… die?” He squeaked. He really was a cowardly man.

“DIE? I said sleep dear, to sleep.” I pulled out some pans to start dinner. “That nightmare must have really shaken you up.”

“Nightmare?” He asked with clear confusion.

“Yes, dear. You fell asleep on the couch after receiving a phone call.” I started chopping vegetables for a stew. “Don’t you remember?”

He just stared at me and walked out of the room.

I had decided I was going to convince him he was losing his mind. I had three days to drive him crazy.

I went into our bedroom and pulled on another turtleneck sweater. A few dabs of makeup from Carol’s vanity and the rope burns were neatly covered up.

So how to make him think he was losing his mind. I decided I would start with little reminders of his crime.

At dinner when we sat down he immediately pulled out his phone. I knew what I would do but I had to time it just right. “Thomas, could you please bring in the dinner rolls I left on the counter?” They were actually in a bread basket on the table.

When he looked up to tell me this I quickly slipped out of Carol’s body, it was very clear she was dead. Thomas screamed and covered his face with his hands.

As soon as he did I slipped back in. “My goodness Thomas! If I had known it was so upsetting to you I wouldn’t have asked you to pass me the butter.” I reached across the table and grabbed the butter, spreading a layer on a roll I deftly scooped from the basket.

His eyes grew very round. I smiled sweetly at him.

That night when we went to bed as soon as he finally fell asleep… it took him a very long time, I can’t imagine why, I gently shook him and then when he rolled over I slipped out of Carol’s body again.

He ran from the room with me calling after him “Thomas dear, are you CERTAIN you wouldn’t like a sleeping pill?”

The next day he called out from work. I could hear him pacing in his office.

I kept on the pressure. Every time he would start to relax I would say something to throw him off.

“Gee, aren’t you glad our marriage is all over because I am dead Thomas dear?” By this time I was wearing low neck blouses so he could see the rope burns. He did NOT comment.

“What… what did you just say?” He stammered.

“I said aren’t you glad the football season is over?” I frowned at him feigning concern. "I know how you despise it. Are you quite alright Thomas?”

He called out the next day as well.

This was the last day I could stay before Carol’s body really started rotting. I had to really put the screws to him.

I opened our safe and placed the small handgun he kept there on his desk. Then when he went in I waited a few minutes and called the police.

“Yes,” I responded in a panicked voice to the operator when he answered. “This is Mrs. Fellman at 104 E Oak View. My husband has a gun. I am afraid he is going to harm me or himself.”

After receiving instructions to get out of the house if I could, or hide if I could not that officers were on their way, I went in to Thomas’ office.

He was holding the gun and looking at it in confusion.

“Oh, hello, Thomas dear.” I smiled at him sweetly. “Have you decided to see if shooting me would keep me dead this time?”

“I… what did you just say?” He knew by now that I would say something innocent back.

Not this time Thomas _dear_. I fingered the rope burn around my neck. “Well… drugging me and hanging me from the rafters didn’t work. I was just wondering if you had decided to try a pistol?”

“You… you KNEW!” He accused.

“The affair? You murdering me?” My smile grew when he pointed the gun at me with shaking hands.

I walked towards him, grinning like an evil jester.

“Stay… stay back!” He was shaking so badly I was afraid he would miss!

“Oh, but I can’t do that Thomas!” I kept walking forward. “See, I came back to drag you to hell with me.”

The fool must have believed me because he pulled the trigger. The front of my blouse ripped open. I couldn’t make the body bleed, but, well how long I had been dead was really the problem of the living wasn’t it. “Oh, such a shame, I quite liked this blouse.”

Thomas pulled the trigger again as we heard sirens outside. This was beginning to be a regular thing for me.

“Good bye Thomas.” I gave him a little wave. “Your case manager is going to have a field day with your issues!” And with that I slipped out of Carol’s body for the final time.


End file.
